“Did you get the beef and greens I sent you in prison?”

Your question stilled the surgeon who had just returned from two hears in prison, taking the bag that you were offering out.

You two had been sworn workplace enemies before he had been hauled off for the wrongly accused murder of Captain Gaines, and now this?

“That was you?” He murmured, brows furrowed in curiosity as he walked the halls of the hospital alongside you.

You had won head surgeon over him, you two had gone through a duel before—in which he himself removed the bullet from your leg, and you’re the one who kept him alive in prison?

“Well, I had to keep you alive and strong if you were to return and assist me.” You had sassed, maintaining your stubborn image.

However, the moment Dawkins caught you swaying just slightly—lashes fluttering—he placed his hands on your shoulders, voice achingly soft compared to the hostility he used to say your name with.

“You’re about to collapse, you must rest..”